True Strength
by Cithariza
Summary: "Confront the dark parts of yourself, and work to banish them with illumination and forgiveness. Your willingness to wrestle with your demons will cause your angels to e the pain as fuel,as a reminder of your strength."August Wilson.ZIBBS NO SLASH!


_It takes more courage to reveal insecurities than to hide them, more strength to relate to people than to dominate them, more 'manhood' to abide by thought-out principles rather than blind reflex. Toughness is in the soul and spirit, not in muscles and an immature mind." – Alex Karras_

True Strength

_You're sitting in your chair_

_no one's around_

_your lights are turned down low_

_and your skin feels about to tear_

_and you is no sound_

Ziva sips on her coffee as she continues to write out her report. It's late, and everybody had gone home hours ago. Though a part of her hates the solitude that the late nights afforded her, she overall feels relief. Relief that she doesn't have to look into the eyes of her colleagues, which reminded her of the event that had changed her life forever.

Two months have passed since she was rescued from Somalia. In that two month's time, she's successfully rebuild the tough exterior that she was known around the office for. Eventually, the passage of time revealed to Gibbs and the others that they didn't need to constantly ask how she was doing. It informed them that they didn't need to constantly watch her to make sure she wouldn't break down. Unfortunately, time couldn't hide the anguish that Ziva saw reflected in their eyes every time they saw her. For three months, they thought she was dead, a reality Ziva herself has faced many times in her life. She knows what the pain of losing a loved one feels like firsthand, what it can do to a person.

_and all i am is frightened for you now  
>'cause you run<br>and how can I show you that you're done?  
>you're on your knees<br>_

Memories from her time in Somalia creep into her mind, its cold vice-like hands latching onto her heart mercilessly. She buries her head into her hands, squinting her eyes shut as she tries to fight them off. But the darkness proves too great as it covers the Israeli, suffocating her with its oppresive smog of despair. Suddenly, she's back in the cell she had called both her home and burial ground. The heat of the Somalian climate clings to her body, stifling her. She can see him, Saleem. She can hear his voice as he tortures her, the tone gleeful as he watched her suffer. Ziva's skin begins to burn from the injuries she sustained from him, and she wants to cry out.

_picking up the pieces from your past_  
><em>but there's nothing more to gather<em>  
><em>holding on to moments that won't last<em>  
><em>or would you rather end it all<em>  
><em>do you wanna?<em>

She feels ill, and somehow manages to get to her feet as she blindly staggers toward the bathroom. Pushing the stall door open, she quickly kneels in front of the toliet as she empties the contents within her stomach into the porcelain toliet. She heaves several times, not bothering to quiet the gagging noises she makes. After several minutes, the convulsions lessen, and the nausea passes. With a shaky hand, she pushes herself up and flushes the away any evidence of the sick. Ziva weakly pushes the stall door open, and stumbles to the sink. Turning on the water, she rinses her mouth several times until she is satisfied that any remnants of vomit are gone. The former Mossad agent leaves the water running, allowing the cool liquid to collect into her hands. Once the pool of water spilled over her hands, she splashed it into her face, savoring its comforting coolness. She repeats this three more times before she reaches for a paper towel to dry her face on. Face dry, the young woman looks into the mirror in front her. She mostly sees exhaustion embedded into her ashen face, but with a gasp she fearfully notices another presence looking back at her.

_sitting there is him  
>he has your eyes<br>calling you to somehow join them  
>and you're writhin' in your skin<br>and buyin' his lies  
>not realizing that you're home <em>  
><em>won't you come home?<em>

_His eyes._ They were brown, much like hers. But where Ziva's eyes had glown with intelligence and fire, Saleem's were blackened with malice and hate. She will never forget those eyes, the hopelessness they had instilled in her a scar much too deep to ever completely heal. It was in those eyes that she saw her fate, her loss of freedom…her impending death. When she first saw those eyes, they angered her. They inspired her to break free from the confines of her cell, to kill they one who had imprisioned her. Failed attempt after failed attempt of escaping slowly turned that passion into despondency.

As Saleem stares back at her Ziva feels a surge of the brokeness she experienced in Somalia, sending a shudder down her spine. Ziva finally breaks contact, turning away from the mirror. Ducking her head so that she can't see the mirrors, she walks out of the bathroom.

_and how can I show you that you're done?  
>you're on your knees<br>picking up the pieces from your past  
>but there's nothing more to gather<br>holding on to moments that won't last  
>or would you rather end it all<br>do you wanna?_

"Ziva?"

The bathroom door behind Ziva closes as she looks up at the source of the voice. Though he was on the staircase several feet away, Ziva can feel his cool, calculating blue eyes bore into her brown ones. She quickly breaks the gaze as she walks back to her desk.

"Hello, Gibbs," she responds casually, "I was finishing up some of my reports. I became tired and went to the restroom to splash some water on my face to wake up."

The silver haired man looks over to Ziva's desk and notes the nearly full cup of coffee sitting on top of her desk. He shakes his head as he descends the staircase and saunters over to the girl's desk.

"If you're going to tell a lie Ziver, make it a plausible one." The sound of her nickname helps Ziva relax a little.

"Sorry."

"Never apologize. It's a sign of weakness."

She feels the corners of her lips turn upward. "Rule #6."

Her boss nods, noticing that she is blantantly avoiding eye contact with him. Gibbs doesn't mind because he already knows the reason. He's seen their lackluster hue for the past two months, since she was first rescued. Though she insists she is fine, that she hasn't changed since her ordeal, her eyes tell a different story. He has always taken to heart the adage, "the eyes are the window to the soul." This, coupled with his gut instinct, has helped him gauge suspects and victims alike. And Ziva's haunted eyes were proof enough for him that she is still suffering. Even though she has never disclosed what happened while she was in Somalia, Gibbs instinctively knew it was horrible.  
><em><br>_

_no one believes you smile alone  
>you wanna retrive your high on the phone<br>but when you hang up all I wanna do is help you to_

Ever since she's returned, everything Ziva has done has been forced. Smiling, laughing…it's all been a front. They've all known since she first came back to work, but they had hoped the act would help her transition back more smoothly. But there hasn't been much progress. She is still hiding the truth, trying to bury it without dealing with it. Gibbs knows from experience that it never works.

"It's okay to ask for help, Ziva."

As he expects, the young Israeli does not answer him. Instead he notices her shoulders tense. He does not deter from her unresponsiveness and presses on.

"What happened to you in Somalia was terrible. It was awful and unfair. You have every right to be upset, to hate what Saleem did to you…what he made you feel. But I can assure you that you won't be able to move on until you do something about it. Ziver, you don't have to keep it all to yourself. Allow someone else in…allow yourself to heal."

Ziva glances up at Gibbs. He of all people understands what it feels like to be a victim of injustice. He's been in this business for a long time, and has made many enemies along the way. He's lost many colleagues and loved ones serving his country, something Ziva understands completely.

Tears spring into her eyes, and for the first time in weeks, Ziva weeps. She flies into Gibbs' arms and the two embrace. The older man patiently holds her as she cries, whispering words of comfort as he strokes her hair.

_pick up the pieces from your past  
>but there's nothing more to gather<br>holding on to moments that won't last  
>or would you rather end it all<br>do you wanna?_

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: This was inspired by a youtube video someone made a few years ago. They used this song while playing a couple of scenes between Ziva and Gibbs throughout the seasons. So, I take no credit for the song choice (Do you Wanna by Joshua Radin). **_

_**Please let me know what you thought of it. I hope neither Ziva nor Gibbs was terribly OOC, so review and let me know if I should change this or add anything. Thank you for reading! **_


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